


Lesson in Solitude

by Nudebeme



Series: Chac and Cicero [30]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Psychosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3479156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nudebeme/pseuds/Nudebeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chac invites his newfound friend Cicero to Solitude to get him away from the sanctuary (and the Night Mother) but he wasn’t expecting this sort of reaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lesson in Solitude

**Author's Note:**

> this is a play on the actual quote Cicero says when you bring him to Solitude and he gets emotional

Solitude was a bustling city, a loud city, a colorful city. The sights and smells felt so foreign to Cicero, yet deep down he could only reminisce…this place was not far from Bravil. Towering city gates, the smell of the ocean spray and colorful banners lining the city corridors. So much like Bravil, the home of his youthful years. 

The Listener thought it would be good to bring Cicero here, and it certainly was a treat- The elf had him dressed in fine clothes, shoes that felt too big for his feet. He said it was because he “couldn’t be seen strutting about with a jester” in a city where he kept such a high profile- oh, Cicero understood. He wasn’t  _that_  much of a fool, despite how he felt of himself. 

Cicero felt wonderful. There was little holding the madman back from dancing in the bustling street, from singing along to the music that seemed to play from each and every window. But he kept himself quiet. That’s what Listener told him to do, ever since that…incident in Windhelm. 

"I can’t get enough of this city. Whiterun’s fine and all, but you just don’t get the true feeling of Skyrim’s culture until you’ve walked these streets on a busy Sundas." Listener sighed, smiling down at Cicero, whom he gladly called his new friend. 

"It certainly is ‘ _bustly’!_ So many open pockets, so many dark alleys. Truly a playground for any ruffian like us.” Cicero peeped, his words lost amid the noise. Chac abided his words, briefly patting his newfound friend on the back and leading them to the food market.

But then he saw something that changed his joyful mood on a septim. His Listener left him in the center of the market square, and he lost sight of the dreaded elf midst a sea of tall city folk. He was alone now, in a city he’d never seen before, far away from the safety of his Mother. It’s been so long since he’d been this far from her….his thoughts began to sour.

In the square he saw mothers clutching baskets of goods, small children at her side. He heard their joyful laughter, the comforting coos of their sweet mothers, a father with his son upon his shoulders. He saw young friends giggling and moving in tight-knit packs, quarreling old couples. All these people walking their own lives, existing for families and friends.

In that moment, Cicero felt alone. Alone, like he always is. The collective chatter of the busy square muddled into a dull thrum in his head, and Cicero reclusively leaned against a shadowed wall, feeling unfit. He’d known this for a long time already, but Cicero felt heartbroken that these people lived a life he could not have. He loved his mother, he really did…but he wasn’t prepared for this loneliness. Nowhere in the doctrines does it say that a Keeper could not have his own family, his own friends..but poor Cicero… He wasn’t given that luxury.

There he stayed, mad mind stirring in bad thoughts. He wanted to hurt anyone who came nearby, who laughed too boisterously. Cicero simply couldn’t find the laughter inside him, especially now stripped of his safety shell of a Jester’s attire. 

Chac was gone, only for not 10 minutes, but when he finally found Cicero lurking in the shadows, he had to coax him out to follow him. Even as they left the busy square, these sad feelings didn’t wane. Chac didn’t notice, he had a bright smile on his face, eager to show Cicero all of these things he’d missed. 

They passed under a towering bridge, sheltered from the sun. A group of playing children ran by, and Chac simply had to ask him. 

"So Cicero, how are you liking Solitude so far?"

Maybe it was the question, but Cicero felt something inside him snap.

"Hmph.. _Sooolitude._  Lonely Cicero could tell you a thing or two about… _solitude…”_

Chac stopped dead in his tracks, hearing the awful sound of Cicero’s voice breaking behind him. When he turned around, he was shocked at the sight of his Imperial companion openly weeping in public, face going red and tears flowing freely. Several passing Nord women caught sight of him, hands to their mouths in surprise- that’s when Chac frantically thought he needed to get Cicero out of here.

"Whoa now, what’s all this? Come with me." Chac hushes, grabbing the tiny man by the shoulders and easing him to a quiet alley, wanting to talk to him. It wasn’t because the Thane couldn’t be seen walking with an obviously disturbed man, he felt the overwhelming sense to help him. 

By the time they made it to the shadowed back alley, Cicero’s tears had already subsided. He sniffled loudly, wild brown eyes staring guiltily at his Listener. He didn’t want to explain himself- he really couldn’t. Chac’s hands rested on his shoulders, and it was one of the longest touches he’s felt in years.

"Cicero, don’t be sad. We’re here to have a good time..you’re not alone, see?" 

Chac was immediately disturbed by the bright smile that came to Cicero’s still-flushed face, hearing his pitchy snickering laugh “Whatever could you mean, Cicero isn’t sad! never! Just the thought alone is laughable!” The Imperial backed away from Chac’s friendly touch, unwilling to admit he felt completely overwhelmed surrounded by all those people. 

"But you where crying, I wasn’t seeing things. Cicero you can’t h-….you know what? Why don’t we go to the Winking Skeever? I’ll buy you a drink and you can hear me perform. How about that?" Chac knew he couldn’t pry into Cicero’s reasoning, he was simply unreachable at times. He knew Cicero’s story. He’s read his journals. If he wanted to talk to him, it’ll have to be one on one, away from all these sights and sounds he’d long since forgotten.

"OOOH!" Cicero gasps, briefly choking himself by his still-clenched throat "What a splendid idea! And Cicero can dance, dance and entertain alongside the talented Listener."

"Why don’t we do that? Come now, and I’ll have to tell you a little about that dancing thing."

Chac led his sick friend back towards the tavern, talking to him and keeping his mind distracted…but in the back of his own mind he mused sadly. The jester’s moodswings where legendary, and Chac knew a thing or two about moody men. However pitiful it was, something inside Chac told him to dig deeper, to find out  _more_ about this fascinating little man, and to help him. He had to, he was indebted to. No.

He wanted to. So much.


End file.
